NilliX

Musician. In-training animator. I write ridiculously over-the-top electronic music, and am looking to get some work composing for animation, advertising, aardvarks and other kitchen appliances. Throw something at me if you're interested! BUT NO JINJOS.

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... that I'm going to be spending a lot of time on NG now that I'm a member.

I also have a bad feeling that I've lost some of what made me love Newgrounds when I was younger; unpredictable stupidity. Kind of like how the teeny-boppers call themselves "so random lol", but a more constructive, amusing level of arbitrary madness, like an insanity that hasn't quite had the time to develop yet...
*stares at the door to make sure it's not becoming gravy*
I used to be able to relate to these genius flash animations because they were what I was; freedom from common sense.

I blame these personality changes not on age, but on the standard-humour slouches that I have as house-mates at University. Throughout living with them through my second year, I've come to realise that the untethered statements that my slightly cheeseless cracker of a brain churns out holds no purchase with them at all. They like sensible, sarcastic jokes. They like to point out the obvious pitfalls and blatancy of every day life and chortle on about it to each other. They like Jimmy Carr. Yep, it's that bad.

A man crossed the street sometime last year, running with a potted plant grasped in both hands. One of my house-mates nudged the other and said "He must be on a rushed gardening schedule", to which the other guffawed, "haw-haw-haw" in a mildly amused reply to what wasn't even funny in the first place.
I, meanwhile, let out a snort of suppressed giggles, not because of what was just said, but because I imagined the man getting crushed to death by a 7-tonne watering can. Some sense of narrative structure, but an utterly barmey implementation of thought.
I told them what I found so funny, "He's running from the Omni-Gardener. 50 metres tall. Hedge-clipping badass of the greenery world.", and they simply stared and said "...what?".
HOW IS IT SO HARD TO FIND THE ILLOGICAL LOGICAL AND JUST HAVE SOME FUN WITH IT?
I wanted to scream this at them over and over, swinging a sock-full of coconut milk around my head and sharpening the horns on my Viking helmet with a roughly-shaven antelope's head.

I feel a bit sorry for them really.
Oh well. I suppose I just need to keep on trucking with my own obscure thoughts and try to get back into my old, kevlar-based, lava-lamp-filled head. The windows in this one are all foggy, and it smells of wet seabird.

My old head also has some cheese & chive dip that needs using up. Frankenstein stole all of the crisps in his quest for a new wife. They're now living happily in South London with 3 slightly-crusted children. Visited them for new year actually; nice apartment, although they're always insisting that I try out the new shower, despite my numerous indications that the shower they're referring to is, in fact, the family cat.

Woe for my mind. It has run out of basket sauce as of late, and must be replenished with wonderful umbrella sound effects.